


Papercut Snowflakes

by RagingBookDragon



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28160814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RagingBookDragon/pseuds/RagingBookDragon
Summary: It was rather unusual for Connor to spend his day inside his bedroom. Generally, he woke up, spent an hour or two training in the basement, then he left to either travel to the cities or he worked on the Homestead, but the entire day, he hadn’t left his room. Hell, he hadn’t even opened his door other than to retrieve food and to relieve himself, immediately shutting himself back in his room, barely speaking to Achilles or her. Which wasn’t necessarily strange as he wasn’t one to talk unless it was needed, but even then, his absence of greeting was odd.
Relationships: Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor & Reader, Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor & You, Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor/Reader, Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Papercut Snowflakes

**Author's Note:**

> Day 18 of The Christmas Fics! Enjoy! -Thorne

It was rather unusual for Connor to spend his day inside his bedroom. Generally, he woke up, spent an hour or two training in the basement, then he left to either travel to the cities or he worked on the Homestead, but the entire day, he hadn’t left his room. Hell, he hadn’t even opened his door other than to retrieve food and to relieve himself, immediately shutting himself back in his room, barely speaking to Achilles or her. Which wasn’t necessarily strange as he wasn’t one to talk unless it was needed, but even then, his absence of greeting was odd.

*******

She cocked an eyebrow, silently observing him as he walked through the dining room and into the kitchen, coming back with a chunk of bread and deer meat in his hand, disappearing up the stairs. His door closed and she stood, wandering into the study where Achilles was going over the ledger. Umber eyes flickered up to her in a wordless greeting before going back to the book, and she sunk into the chair in front of the desk.

Tempted to prop her feet on the desk, she decided against it, remembering how the old man had smacked her as hard as he could in the shin with his cane last time— _for an elderly man who hobbled everywhere, he still had it_. Instead, she shifted in the chair, propping her legs over the sides, and let her head loll back to stare at the ceiling.

“Has Ratonhnhaké:ton spoken to you today?” she questioned, watching a fly buzz around on the trim.

“He grunted at me this morning, which counts as his usual greeting,” Achilles answered, flipping a page in the book. “Why do you ask, (Y/N)?”

She hummed, lacing her fingers across her stomach. “Well, he came out of his room this morning, said ‘good morning’, kissed me on the cheek and went straight back into his room.” Her eyes drifted to the old man. “And he hasn’t left his room all day.”

“And this worries you… _why_?” the old man retorted.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I’m _not_ worried,” she said, adding nonchalantly, “Just curious.”

Achilles let out a hum. “Looked through the keyhole yet?”

She sat up and glared at him. “Achilles, how dare you assume I would snoop through a keyhole to see what my lover was doing.” He arched a salt and pepper eyebrow at her holier-than-thou-tone, and she let out a huff. “ **He covered the keyhole**.” After a moment, she deadpanned, “ **And pulled the curtains when he saw me climbing the edge of his windowsill**.”

He snorted and flipped another page, offering, “Perhaps he’s wrapping presents?”

(Y/N) propped her cheek on her knuckles, muttering, “Then the present must be a good one because he’s trying his damnedest to keep me from finding out what he’s up to.”

Her eyes drifted to the window, catching the rays of sun as it began to set on the horizon. “I don’t even think he went outside today.” She stared at Achilles. “Do you have any idea how drastic this has to be for someone like _him_ to _not_ go outside?”

“Very?” he offered, but she could tell he wasn’t really interested.

“Extremely. Hell, he’s part wood nymph.” (Y/N) raised her hands as if reaching to the heavens. “He hasn’t taken his daily communion with nature, Achilles. Who knows what’ll happen to him if he doesn’t appease his spirit by rolling in snow and pine trees?”

Achilles grunted. “Probably keel over from deprivation of creation.” Before she could even open her mouth, he monotoned, “ **Don’t say it**.”

(Y/N)’s face pinched, and she crossed her arms over her chest, muttering. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “You were going to get that dopey grin on your face and chortle like a fool, _‘Hey, that rhymes!’_.” He gave her a knowing look. “You’re _foolish_ like that.”

She looked away and grumbled, “I prefer _funny_ , but if that’s what helps you sleep at night.”

Achilles snorted and shut the ledger, standing to his feet. “We all have our opinions, (Y/N).”

As he walked behind her to the dining room, she called, “Yeah, well, honesty _isn’t_ always a nice thing!”

“What’s true and what’s nice aren’t always the same thing,” he retorted.

(Y/N) narrowed her gaze as she mocked, “ _What’s true and what’s nice aren’t always the same thing_.”

After a moment of mulling over her mockery, she rose from her seat and headed for the stairs, intent on figuring out exactly what Connor was up to. Climbing the stairs, she came to his bedroom and knocked on the door, pressing her face into where the door and the doorframe met.

“Oi, open the door.” Her voice was muffled against the wood and she heard him shuffling around.

“I am busy, (Y/N).” Connor replied and she twisted the doorknob as far as it would go.

“ _You know I’ll pick this lock_ , _Ratonhnhaké:ton_ ,” she countered. “ _Open the door_.”

For a second, the shuffling stopped and then a moment later, the door unlocked, and he pulled it open, staring at her. She gave him a toothy grin and he opened it farther, letting her inside.

She hadn’t even taken two steps in before she questioned, “ **Why on earth does your bedroom look like a craft store exploded**?”

Her eyes traveled around, scraps of paper and glitter littered the floor, and in the corner sat the majority of it. (Y/N) walked over, peering at the scissors and bowl of sap that he’d mixed into a glue.

“Whatcha doin’ in here big-guy? Besides _murdering_ all the parchment, we have on hand?”

Connor scowled at her as he stood beside her. “I was trying to make those snowflakes we saw in Boston the other week.”

(Y/N) eyed him, then the mess on the floor. “You mean the papercutting at the schoolhouse?”

He nodded, and a dusting of crimson appeared on his cheeks as he admitted, “I cannot seem to make them as well as they could.” She giggled and he glowered at her. “ _Do not laugh at me_ ,” he commanded, but his threat was heatless as the blush spread across his face.

She raised a fist and coughed. “I’m not laughing _at_ you, Ratonhnhaké:ton.” His face told her that he didn’t believe a word coming out of her mouth and she clarified, “I’m just imagining you and all your six-foot-four self, sitting at a desk with a bunch of ten-year-old’s making arts and crafts and _them_ laughing at you.”

He let out a low groan. “You can be callous, Otsi’tsa. I hope you are aware of that.”

Shrugging, (Y/N) took a seat on the floor and opened his latest piece, a rather pitiful looking snowflake and when he saw the grin on her face, he sighed, collapsing beside her.

“Tell me, it is pitiful, is it not?”

She fumbled for an answer, but when none seemed to form ,she snorted and nodded. “Yeah, it’s _really_ pitiful, big-guy.”

He rested his head on her shoulder and pouted. “I cannot make it.”

(Y/N) turned her head, looking at him. “Why didn’t you ask me to help you, Ratonhnhaké:ton?” he mumbled something, and she gave him a funny smile. “What?”

Connor sighed heavily and replied, “I wanted to surprise you with it.”

She leaned over and pecked his nose, feeling it scrunch up under her lips; pulling away, she said, “Don’t you know that making papercutting is much more fun when you do it with someone you love?”

He gave her a smile that made her heart sing like a bird in the trees and he murmured, “No, I did not, but…” his eyes drifted to the leftover paper and he added, “There is still enough for us both.”

She grinned. “Sounds perfect.”


End file.
